And The Daddy Is… The Infertile Guy?! ( Vitality )
Chapter 120

Chapter 120 

“Hey Mr. Chadwick, aren’t you swamped with work these days? What brings you to pick me up from the office?” Gwendolyn asked, turning to him with a hint of surprise in her voice. 

Howard replied, “Waldo is on the loose who got a chip on his shoulder and I bet he’s out for revenge. Gwendolyn, I’m a bit worried about you,” 

“I’m being careful, I promise I won’t wander off into any deserted places. You don’t have to waste your time picking me up.” 

Howard turned to her, his gaze softening slightly as he said, “Can’t it just be that I wanted to see you?” 

“Oh. Her lips twitched, struggling to suppress a smile that was threatening to break through. 

“About last night, the wine… I didn’t switched it,” she blurted out, cager to clear the misunderstanding. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chadwick.” 

She knew he had spent an unusual amount of time in the bathroom last night. As for what he was doing in there, she dared not dwell on the thought. 

Howard responded with a noncommittal grunt, his slender fingers tapping rhythmically on the sleek surface of his laptop. 

Was he working? 

Gwendolyn strayed her eyes to his screen, catching a glimpse of a technical term that jumped out at her. 

It was post–traumatic stress disorder from a car accident. 

She worried for a moment. Had the accident caused Howard some irreversible. psychological damage? 

But since he wasn’t talking about it, she pretended not to notice. 

Gwendolyn turned her gaze back to the window. 

Their car passed through the bustling main square of Bayridge City. The giant screens were playing an interview with Selina, the international ballet sensation, announcing her return tour to the country. Her first stop would be the grand Bayridge City Theater. 

The name sounded familiar to Gwendolyn, and she remembered Sandra mentioning that Selina was Sanford Hamilton’s sister, a renowned ballet dancer. 

“What are you looking at?” Howard closed his laptop and asked. 

“Nothing much.” Gwendolyn blinked, her voice soft and her cheeks glowing with a natural 

fairness. 

They got home shortly after. 

Stepping through the door, Gwendolyn was stunned by the sight that greeted her in the living room. 

“Mrs. Chadwick, do you like what you see?” Marina asked with a playful tone. 

Gwendolyn flushed a bright red. 

The walls of the living room were adorned with their wedding photos and dozens of frames, both large and small. 

Crystal figurines graced the coffee table, and even the dining area wasn’t spared. 

The TV backdrop featured an enormous wedding photo of them kissing passionately. She was wrapped in Howard’s embrace, lost in the moment, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy with desire. It looked like she was thoroughly enjoying it. 

“Marina, this…” 

With a chuckle, Marina explained, “The bridal studio delivered all the albums and frames today. They’re all retouched photos. There’s a bunch more on the floor.” 

The floor was littered with their unrestrained embraces, leaving Gwendolyn feeling dizzy. 

Howard said coolly, “Let’s replace the TV wall with a more subdued photo, a simple couple’s shot will do.” 

Marina agreed without fuss, “Alright, I’ll move the kissing photo to your bedroom. For the rest, there’s no space to hang them right now, so I’ll take them up to the attic.” 

She made the decision on her own. 

Gwendolyn, eager to escape the awkwardness of the living room, volunteered, “Marina, let me help you with that.” 

She scooped up a few frames and headed for the staircase. 

Marina followed her upstairs, pushing open the door to the attic and said, “We can store 

them here for now.” 

Gwendolyn set down the frames, taking in the surroundings. 

The room was filled with paint and art supplies, with a cluttered box tucked away in the 

corner. 

Bending down, she picked up a scattered sketch. It was half–finished and unmistakably intimate. 

Her face turned scarlet and she fumbled to stuff the sketch back into the box, her fingertips tingling. 

2/3 

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Marina, noticing her discomposure, asked curiously, “Mrs, Chadwick, what’s wrong?” 

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